


Well Isn't This Convenient?

by Cloudedskiez



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Flirty Lance, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith/Lance (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), The Purge - Freeform, Walking Taco - Mentions, its good ok don't judge me, no actual violence happens it's just my boys being dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 14:06:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudedskiez/pseuds/Cloudedskiez
Summary: “Don’t worry, I won’t like… take your money or anything. I just want food.”Keith nodded, “That’s understandable,” he said (even though he didn’t actually think so).“Right?!” Apparently, the guy agreed. “Like, why murder people when you could just steal as much chocolate as you want?!”A Modern Klance AU (with a sprinkle of the Purge)





	Well Isn't This Convenient?

**Author's Note:**

> *Tossing this into the sea of Klance* yeet.
> 
> I'M LOOKING FOR MY FIC FOLDER (actual paper btw) AND I CAN'T FIND IT SO UNTIL I DO Y'ALL GET ONE-SHOTS
> 
> [Made some small edits here and there]

<><><>

* * *

[Monday, March 21st, 2016. 8:24 PM] 

[At a Gas Station in Arizona]

* * *

  
<><><>

> _ “...This amendment establishes a 12-hour event known as _ ** _"The Purge"_ ** _ which would take place from _ ** _7:00 _ ** _ in the _ ** _evening of March 21_ ** _ to _ ** _7:00_ ** _ in the _ ** _morning of March 22_ ** _ , wherein _ ** _all crime_ ** _ including murder becomes _ ** _legal..._ ** _ ” _

Logically, Keith knew this. He’d lived in America for over a year now, he was pretty caught up to speed on what the Purge was. However, a year ago today, he hasn’t had a job that required him to _ work _ during the hours of the Purge, (a fact which should be filed under _ “employee endangerment” _and get his asshole of a manager, Sendak, fired). 

Sighing, he tuned out the reports on the T.V recounting several destructive events that had happened in the short time slot since the Purge had started. Instead, he looked out the window of the Convenient Store into the practically abandoned Gas Station. Thank god this neighborhood was essentially a ghost town, or else Keith would be in a serious amount of trouble.

_ Huh, _ Keith thought, _ Maybe that’s why Sendak has been let off the hook for making me work this shift. _

He grabbed a bag of popcorn from one of the fully stocked shelves, _ It’s the Purge, they can’t touch me, _and opened it on the counter, eagerly digging into the contents. The broadcast continued from the small T.V in the corner of the Gas Station, listing off the names of multiple poor souls who were unlucky to be caught up in the mess of mass murder that was occurring on the streets. 

Suddenly, the T.V started to go static. In fact, everything started to malfunction. The gentle whirring of the slushy machine stuttered before slowing down to a stop. The television turned off, and so did the overhead lights. Keith let out a groan as the store lapsed into an empty silence.

_ Fuck. I’m about to get murdered, aren’t I? Great. I should have told Sendak to go fuck himself sooner. _

Then, the door opened with the signature jingle. Keith felt the sudden urge to either duck behind the counter or whip out the knife he carried on him, but he resisted, instead deciding to face the danger with the face of someone who had worked way too many back-to-back shifts and wasn’t afraid of Death anymore.

He closed his eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath and preparing to come face to face with whatever kind of creepy mask the murderer had decided on using before he opened his eyes again to find someone ignoring him completely and instead strolling through the isles, picking up multiple bags of chips as they went.

Keith couldn’t help it, he spoke. “What the fuck are you doing?”

The guy, apparently, hadn’t actually seen him when he entered, and promptly jumped about a foot in the air and squealed in shock. He turned his wide eyes onto Keith and pressed a hand to his chest. 

“Holy shit, dude. What the hell are you doing over there?”

Keith raised an eyebrow. “Uh, working?” he deadpanned.

The dude's eyebrows scrunched up as he looked at Keith incredulously, “Seriously?”

“Yup,” Keith replied, popping the ‘p’. The guy looked shocked for a moment before he rubbed his neck awkwardly. 

“Wow, uh, that… sucks,” he replied. Keith merely shrugged.

“I suppose. At least I’m getting paid extra for it.” _ Unless Sendak decides to skimp out on me as a fun idea of a Purge activity. _

“Heh, yeah I guess that could be a plus…” the guy responded, fiddling with the zipper of his olive green jacket.

“Sooo… you here to rob us?” Keith asked, straight to the point. To his credit, the robber looked a bit guilty.

“Perhaps,” he replied, dragging the word out as he bent down to pick up the chip bags that he dropped from the scare. “Don’t worry, I won’t like… take your money or anything. I just want food.”

Keith nodded, “That’s understandable,” he said (even though he didn’t actually think so).

“Right?!” Apparently, the guy agreed. “Like, why _ murder _ people when you could just steal as much chocolate as you want?!”

Now, if Keith put himself in the shoes of this stranger, he could understand the want to have that much chocolate. Unfortunately, Keith was Keith, and those particular shoes came with a pessimistic POV.

“Wouldn’t it all melt easily? You’d get sick of all the chocolate eventually. Plus, you’d probably feel horrible after eating it and gain a lot of weight. Also, if someone saw a huge stash of chocolate in your house, they’d probably call you a weirdo and also the police. And it could expire before you finish it all. _ And- _”

“ALRIGHT, Alright! Jeez, you just lectured me within, like, an inch of my life dude. Not even my _ mama _ nags me that much. You got something against chocolate? Did it murder your entire family?”

“No. My Pa died fighting a fire. My mom left me when I was a kid,” Keith droned, taking a sick sort of pleasure watching the guy before him deflate a little at his sob story. 

“Plus I’m lactose intolerant,” he added on as an afterthought, watching the guy perk up at the confession.

“Ah-HA! I _ knew _it! Nobody can just hate chocolate without reason!”

Keith snorted, “If that reason is spontaneously painful diarrhea then sure.” 

The guy winced again, “Dude. You have like, no filter. Has anyone ever told you that?”

He shrugged, “No. I’m only being honest with you because I know I’ll never see you again. Can’t keep this bottled up forever, and I also can’t afford therapy.”

“Damn.”

“Yup.”

The guy pointed a long finger towards the door, “I’m just gonna… go then.”

Keith gave a customer service worthy smile, “Feel free to never come back.”

The other dude shivered a little at his smile, before walking towards the door. When he had his hand on the handle he perked up a bit, seeming to remember something.

“Oh! Almost forgot!”

_ Oh god, what does he want now? _

He turned around with a smirk, “Since it’s the Purge and all, I can technically be as gay as I want to without consequences sooo…” he holds out a family-sized bag of Ruffles, “You can have this last bag of chips if I can bag your number,” he practically purrs, finishing it off with a wink.

Keith stands there, staring at him in disbelief before the stranger chuckles softly and opens the door. “The power will come back on in around fifteen minutes, see you around _ Keith~ _”

He feels his eyes widen in shock as the stranger leaves. _ What the fuck? How does he know my- oh right, nametag, duh. _

True to his word, the power comes back on fifteen minutes later, and Keith is left to reset multiple machines and finally changes the T.V station to watch something other than murder.

<><><>

* * *

[Tuesday, March 21st, 2017. 7:45 PM] 

[At a Gas Station in Arizona]

* * *

<><><>

Keith cannot _ believe _ he has to deal with this bullshit again.

Sendak has been fired after he tried to avoid paying Keith for his _ last _ shift on this forsaken day, and now Keith had a _ new _ manager who is quite possibly more annoying than Sendak.

Varkon- _ Where do they keep finding these people, another planet?- _ is also MIA, despite promising that he would be here to “accompany” (harass) Keith on his shift. _ Unfortunately, _ he got “held up” and “wasn’t able to make it”.

Keith hopes he gets murdered. 

Since last time, the Gas Station has recently installed a hotdog and burger machine, which has become pretty popular even though the hotdog buns taste like paper. Keith is there now, crumbling up some ground beef that he let cook and scooping it into a paper cup. He walks with it back to the counter where he has a small bag of Doritos and guacamole waiting for him. He crushes the Doritos and adds the guac and ground beef, shaking the bag to mix it all. Then he grabs a fork and sits down on the counter, watching some horrible soap opera on the one channel (other than the weather and news) that hasn’t been canceled yet. It’s not even in English, yet Keith can’t find it in himself to care as he digs into his meal. 

Varkon will probably scold him for slacking off (he watches all the security tapes on Keith’s shifts to do just that) and also for stealing and consuming the store’s goods but Keith knows that he can’t touch him. Since it’s the Purge and all.

Suddenly, the lights start flickering. Keith tilts his head back and groans, loudly, to let the universe know of his distress. Then he decides against standing and instead leans against the cash register (a very uncomfortable feat mind you) and waits for the inevitable robber or murderer to shoot their way in and make off with Keith’s money and also possibly dead body. 

When nobody enters after a while he’s about to take another bite before the doorbell rings. Keith can’t find it in himself to care, so he ends up taking the bite anyway, chewing slowly as he observes the new “customer”.

_ Hooold on a second. I remember that jacket! Woah, he’s gotten taller… and buffer. Fuck. _

The stranger from the last Purge is back again, carrying a garbage bag with him that he promptly wastes no time in stuffing with various Pringle cans. Keith decides to indulge his boredom and clears his throat loud enough to alert the man.

The dude flinches and looks over to the counter where Keith sits, now waving sardonically. He smirks, “Well, well, well. We meet again, Mullet.”

Keith raises an eyebrow and decides to ignore the comment, “Yeah, whatever, Hi. Can you at least tell me whatever it is your stealing this time so I can catalog it? My manager needs something to nag me about at the end of the day.”

The man lights up, “Sure thing, gorgeous! Let’s see… I got three cans of classic Pringles-”

Keith quickly writes down whatever the stranger is listing as the man walks through the isles and grabs more and more items to stuff himself with later. 

“-two bags of Fuzzy Peaches aaaaaaaand… uh we’re listing the items I’m stealing, right?” he asks, to which Keith nods. “Great, so while I’m at it, can I steal _ your heart~, _” he asks with a flirty grin and finger guns.

“If you were to murder me then I suppose I wouldn’t be able to stop you,” Keith replied, taking another bite of his dinner without breaking eye contact.

The man visibly hesitates, “I… genuinely can’t tell if you're either flirting with me or being serious.”

Keith shifted a little to make himself more comfortable against the cash register. “I’m being serious.”

“Ah,” the stranger says hesitantly.

“Yep.”

There’s an awkward silence for a bit as the man fiddles with the bag he was carrying. “Um…” he starts up again, looking nervous, “...you’d tell me if my flirting was making you uncomfortable, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith answers honestly.

The man nods, “Okay, so like… is it? Making you uncomfortable I mean.”

Keith shrugs, “Nope.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

The stranger's shy smile turns into a smirk once more, “So that means I can keep going?”

“Yeah you can keep going,” Keith says, pausing a bit to let the man's hopes rise, “Keep going until you’re out of the store.”

He deflates, “Oh wow, ha-ha, good one Keith.”

Keith returns to his meal, smirking to himself. _ That _was _a good one. Great going, Brain. Now if only you could work during my next Exam. _

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask, why the hell are you eating Doritos with a fork? Like, chopsticks I’d understand, but a _ fork?! _”

“‘Cause it’s not Doritos,” Keith replies taking another bite. The man gave him a look and makes circular motions with his hand as if to say _ ‘go on…’ _so he does, “It’s a Walking Taco.”

The man pauses, “A what.”

“A Walking Taco,” Keith repeats, as if saying it again will clear up any and all misconceptions. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get that, my question to you is this: what the heck is a Walking Taco?”

Keith looks into the bag, “It’s basically just a bag of crushed Doritos with ground beef and guacamole. Right now, it’s my dinner. My Pa taught me how to make it.”

“The dead one?”

“I’ve only got one, so yes.”

“Just making sure.”

Keith resumes eating before he notices the dude standing next to him. “Can I try some?” the man asks, puppy eyes even more adorable up close. _ And blue _ \- Keith notes- _ Really, really, blue. _

Wordlessly, Keith leans away and holds the bag out to the stranger. “There are forks over there,” he says, pointing to the condiment station by the hotdog machine. Instead of taking the hint, the man simply takes Keith’s fork and digs in, scooping up a heap of makeshift taco before spooning it into his mouth. He moans obscenely, which has Keith blushing a bit.

“Dude, holy shit, this is _ so good _…” he says, reaching to grab another bite. Keith snatches the bag back, holding it out of reach from the pouting man.

“No, this is mine, go get your own.” He simply pouts harder before Keith gives him a glare that sends him searching for the ingredients. 

“Okay, okay, fine. You gotta tell me how you make it though.”

Keith still can’t believe this is a genuine interaction that he’s having tonight. He smiles despite himself, “Yeah, okay.”

They spend a couple of minutes making another Walking Taco, (Keith ends up giving the man the rest of the ground beef that he didn’t use since the machine isn’t working anymore), and chatting before Keith hears a phone go off. The stranger scrambles to dig it out of his back pocket and turn it on.

“Oh, shit. I’ve got like five minutes to leave.” When Keith raises an eyebrow he continues, “Well my buddy Ka- uh I mean _ Pidge _ hacked the power to disable the security cameras so they can’t see me while I, ya know, make off with the goods. So I gotta go before the power comes back on-”   


Suddenly, the door opened, a small androgynous person standing there, “What’s taking so long?! Stop flirting with the ‘hot cashier guy’ and get in the car already!”

The man gave a sheepish grin and hauled the bag over his shoulder, holding the rest of his Walking Taco in his other hand. “‘Till next time, Babe!” he called, as his friend dragged him out of the store. Keith waved as they left, actually wishing for once that they’ll come back again.

And actually pay that time.

<><><>

* * *

[Wednesday, March 21st, 2018. 9:06 PM] 

[At a Gas Station in Arizona]

* * *

<><><>

Keith actually quit his job at the Gas Station in May of 2017 (after reporting the constant harassment to the EEOC) after he found a new one. He now works for a company that teaches people self-defense skills for the Purge. Keith thinks they’re actually pretty useful, and he’s gone through a lot of training in order to be an instructor. 

Right now though, that doesn’t matter, because he’s back at the Gas Station anyway. He’s here to get a refill for his motorcycle, (and pay too, goddammit) when he sees the lights of the Gas Station go out.

_ Fuck, how did I forget about this? _ Keith groans to himself, having a flashback to when he was in a similar situation and decides to confront the strangers so he can get his gas and _leave._

Knife in hand, Keith walks into the store to see a confused (and very familiar) stranger and a less confused, more terrified employee.

_Can I still call him a stranger? This is the third time we've met... I still don't know his name though..._

“W-who are you? Where’s… uh- Keith?!” the man asks, though the employee seems too frightened to answer properly.

“Here,” Keith deadpans, voice sounding a lot deeper than it usually does. He crosses his arms and glares at the man terrorizing the boy working the register as both eyes fly over to him.

“Keith!” he says, and starts… stumbling towards him to see him better in the dark, “‘S nice to see you again man- oh shit... you got sexier.”

He scowls and the boy meeps, “Can’t exactly say the same for you, still robbing poor Gas Stations?”

The other man swallows, and Keith’s eyes track the movement, “Uhh… g-give me a second.”

Keith takes a step forward and the stranger- _Fuck it, I'm still calling him a stranger-_ squeaks. His eyes narrow, “The hell’s wrong with you, you’re jumpier than usual.”

He placed a hand on his heart, “Oh god, Keith. Give a man some warning. You can’t just stroll in here looking like… like- _ that _ and _ not _ expect everyone within a ten-mile radius to fall in love with you.”

Keith flushed, “Excuse me?”

“Yes, good, you’re excused. I gotta get outta here before I say something about how much I want you to choke me with those gorgeous thighs and make you like, punch me in the face or something.”

He narrows his eyes and growls, “If you don’t then I might just have to do so.”

“Oohhh, Jesus Christ. Please growl at me again, that was so hot.”

“I am… not going to do that- hold on a second, are you _ drunk?! _”

“Nooooo…” he says while the cashier (who seems to have gathered himself at this point), nods while looking at Keith.

“Right. Well, c’ mon let’s get you over to your friend Pidgeon or whatever the hell their name was.”

“It’s Pidgeeeeeeee,” he whines, but as soon as Keith puts his arm around him he straightens up. “Oho man, are you going to cradle me in your arms?! Please say yes, your arms look delicious. Damn, what gym do you go to? You look beefy-er.”

“I go to Marmora, now shut up,” Keith replies, dragging the two of them out of the store and into the parking lot. Exhaling as he feels the cool night air brush against his face.

“But Keeeeeeeeith I need to tell you something important!”

He stops and sighs, “What.”

“I would like you to look at me.”

Keith looks at him, down instead of up (though the man is wobbly, at the full height he’d surely be a little taller than him). He's filled out a bit since Keith last saw him, his messy chestnut coloured hair sticks up in some places and his bangs hang over his eyes a bit. His royal blue irises stare at him with drunken happiness, his smile crooked and teeth a bright white against his caramel brown skin. A light dusting of freckles sits across the bridge of his nose, a little crooked from being broken and not healing quite right. In the pale of the moonlight he looks…

_ “Beautiful,” _ Keith says, as easy as breathing. Those gorgeous blue eyes go wide, and suddenly he stumbles. He catches him, and the stranger looks dazed.

“Damn... now I f'rget what I w's gunna say... my knees feel weak, you can’t just compliment me, man. ‘S not fair…”

“You did it to me though,” Keith humms.

The man hiccups a little, “Well yeah, that’s ‘cause I like you ‘nd I wanted to date you ‘n stuff. Hooo boy that alcohol is settin’ in!”

“We should get you home, where’s your car,”

“Gasp! Drunk driv’in is illegAL, Keef! C’nt do that u’ll… get arres- a rez- a rest-”

“Arrested,” Keith finishes.

“Yes!!! That!!!”

“It’s the Purge,”

The man looks at him for a while before it sets in, “Hmmmmmmmmm. I s’ppose so.”

“Besides, you’re not the one driving, you can barely stand. I’m driving,”

“Yessssss, drive me home ‘nd make love to me, Keef!”

Keith flushes darker, “I am not going to ‘make love’ to you.”

“Awwwwww, please?”

“No.”

“Please??”

“No.”

The man lays his full weight onto Keith, making him stagger a little, “Pllleaaaaaaaaaaasssssssssssseeeeeee??? ‘M desperate.”

Keith chuckles a little, “Yeah I can see that. I’m still not going to sleep with you, I don’t even know your name.”

“Whaaaaaa’ how tho?! I know ‘urs!”

“That’s because I was wearing mine.”

“Ooooooohhhh… Hm. Well, we c’nt have that!! ‘M Lannnce,”

It took Keith a bit to translate through the drunk, “Lance?”

“Ugh, say it again. Made my heart flutt’r a bit.”

Keith decided, foolishly, to indulge him, “Fine. Lance.”

“Ahhhhhhh,” he- no, _ Lance _ sighed. “Tear my shirt off with ‘ur teef.”

“Uh, no.”

“Damn, worth a shot.”

_ I couldn’t disagree more. _

<><><>

* * *

[Thursday, March 14th, 2019. 1:52 PM] 

[At a Convenience Store in Arizona]

* * *

<><><>

To Keith’s surprise, he spotted a familiar face in an unfamiliar Convenience Store.

_Lance,_ he thought, remembering the night when he’d led the drunken boy home. And the one previously when he’d shared his Pa’s Walking Taco with him... all those nights when he let him get away…

Okay, Keith was trying to be romantic but it wasn’t working. The times they met up were all on the day of the Purge, and always when Lance was stealing something. Last time, apparently, he’d managed to stuff a few chocolate bars in his pocket before Keith arrived, and promptly cried drunkenly when Keith refused to eat one.

Finding out that you’d face diarrhea for someone’s happiness is a very strange experience. Also, unromantic.

Anyway, here he was, In a short line at a Convenience Store, watching the boy in front of him tuck a strand of hair behind his ear and make small conversation with the cashier.

_ At least he’s sober this time, _ Keith reasons. 

Suddenly, Lance dug out his wallet, and Keith can’t help but speak up.

“So, you actually _ can _ pay for your chips.”

Lance perks up and turns his head, a soft smile setting on his face.

“Hey, Keith.”

Keith raises a hand in greeting, smiling softly as well. “Hi, Lance. Forgot your jacket?”

Lance looked down at himself, then back up, “Naw, that’s my crime jacket.”

He snorts, “Because olive green is the stealthiest colour.”

The other man nods seriously, “For sure.”

Lance is nice enough to wait for Keith as he goes through the checkout and walks with him towards his bike.

“Soooo…” he starts, rocking back on his heels. “A certain friend of mine and another certain friend of mine who you’ve possibly met are planning an event that happens to land on the 21st around… 7:00 in the PM? Would it be possible to get you to join us?”

Keith smirks, “Are you asking me to become your accomplice?”

Lance strokes his chin and pretends to contemplate the question, “Possibly.”

He laughs, “Sure, Lance. I’ll help you rob the Gas Station.”

“How sweet of you, Babe.”

Keith rolls his eyes, “I’ve got to go,” before he can chicken out, he presses a quick kiss to Lance’s smiling lips, “See you later, Loverboy.”

“Yeah… see you…” Lance breathes wistfully. Smiling wide as Keith gets on his motorcycle and leaves.

_ For once, I’m actually looking forward to the Purge. _

<><><>

* * *

[The End.]

* * *

<><><>

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully, my next post will be the actual fics I promised you guys :')


End file.
